


Reunion Rhythm

by sandalwoodbox



Category: Cowboy Bebop
Genre: Fix-It, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 07:38:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14039379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandalwoodbox/pseuds/sandalwoodbox
Summary: Spike Spiegel and Julia take on Vicious and the Red Dragon Syndicate together.





	Reunion Rhythm

The gate creaked as Spike opened it and walked into the graveyard. Was she already here? There was a steady rain coming down, outlining the tombstones in a halo of mist, filling every impression in the pathway, making even familiar trees a few dozen feet away unidentifiable. There was no way to tell. No way but to go to the spot and find out.

He put his hands in his pocket and hunched his shoulders and walked. He’d left the Bebop without even saying goodbye, broken a few laws parking the Swordfish, pelted down the rainswept streets – and now that he was so close he could only walk. As long as he was still walking, there still hope that the memory that kept replaying itself in his head wouldn’t replay in reality.

He looked around. This was the spot.  _ She’s not here. _ He sighed.

Suddenly a flash of red caught the corner of his eye. Julia? He turned – but it was just a rose someone had left on one of the gravestones. He bent over and picked it up. So vibrant, even in the dismal rainlight.

He sighed again and straightened, and looked down the path once more. And froze.

Julia was standing in the middle of the path, as beautiful as he remembered her. Maybe even more beautiful? Wearing the same scarlet coat. Maybe his eyes were playing tricks on him? He blinked, blinked again.

She reached inside her coat and drew out a pistol. Pointed it right at him. He felt the prick of thorns as his fist clenched involuntarily.

She walked slowly towards him, stopped a few feet away. “It was raining that day, too.”

He felt a small smile work its way onto his face. “So that’s why you never came? The rain?”

“I was supposed to kill you.” She pressed her lips together and flicked her eyes away for a moment. With anyone else, there were at least three ways he could’ve used that opening to take them down. Not with Julia, though. Besides, if she wanted him dead he already would be. “If I  _ had _ killed you that day, I would’ve been free.”

They stood silently in the rain for a few seconds before she sighed and reholstered the gun. “That’s what Vicious said, anyway. I don’t really make a habit of trusting jealous maniacs who tell you to kill the man you love.”

She stepped up to him and raised her arms, offering an embrace. Spike wrapped his arms around her and for a moment they were standing outside of time, transported by the scent of rain and each other.

“I thought you were dead,” she said in his ear.

“I faked it,” he replied.

“Yeah I noticed.” She took a deep breath and gave him a slight squeeze, and they stepped apart. “I’ve been on the run, hiding from the syndicate, ever since. One of these days I’m not going to make it out. And now that they know you’re alive, it’ll be the same for you.”

She paused; he nodded.

“The only way for us to be free is to bring them down. Or die trying,” she said.

Spike looked out over the city, over the rain and the fuzzy outlines of tall buildings beneath the dome, and felt the past and the present sliding across each other until they snapped into perfect clarity. He said, “Just like old times.”

 

Annie’s corner store looked the same as it had for the last twenty years at least: peeling robin’s egg blue paint, beige venetian blinds, a dull and slightly rusted door frame. Julia didn’t even know how many times she and Spike had met here secretly to escape the eyes of the syndicate. Annie  _ was _ the eyes of the syndicate, and the syndicate disapproved, but she’d always had a soft spot for the couple. She let them stay in the guest room, and in the morning there was always tea and biscuits and plenty of stories about the old days, back when Red Dragon was a small group with no influence in the city. Around the back of the building there was a fire escape where Spike and Julia would lean against the warm concrete of the building and watch the sunset, only wearing their bedsheets.

And sometimes Annie would bring out some piece of military-grade weaponry from her armory in the back room and show it off. There was always a good story to go with it: the dealer she got it from on Ganymede, the operation to collect on a debt where they took a couple things extra… With any luck, she’d let them borrow a few pieces and not ask too many questions.

But the store’s blinds were pulled down. It wasn’t late enough for Annie to’ve closed.  Julia’s eyes narrowed and she drove past without slowing down, only pulling over at the end of the block. “I think someone got here before us,” she said, adjusting the rear view mirror to scope the area. “I don’t see anything, but we should be careful.”

They ran down the street, hugging the building facade. Spike nudged the door open. His eyes went wide. “Annie!” he said under his breath and ran in. Julia followed close behind. The inside of the store was a mess. The shelves had been tossed, their contents strewn about in a way that made clear this wasn’t about robbery. It was personal. Spike was already crouching by the window bench next to Annie, who was hunched over, arms crossed over a large bloody stain on her stomach.

Annie turned her face up to look at them, her breathing ragged, sweating from the effort. “I… told them you weren’t here,” she said through gritted teeth. “That you were… already dead.” Spike ran to the first aid aisle  – well, where it used to be – and grabbed some gauze pads. Julia knew it wouldn’t be enough. She knew he knew that, too. She knelt by Annie’s side and put her hand on Annie’s knee. “I… told them…”

“Don’t talk,” Spike said as he returned and began tearing the packets open and pressing the gauze onto Annie’s bloody shirt.

Annie grunted in pain. “Vicious… killed off the elders, they said.” Julia’s eyes widened and she glanced at Spike; he looked just as surprised. “Everyone’s lost their sense of place in the world. Like... kites without strings.”

Julia felt a small smile tug at her mouth even as tears were welling in her eyes. It was just like Annie, to complain about people not respecting their place in the universe and in the structure of a criminal organization even in the middle of dying.

“I’m glad you two found each other again,” Annie said, smiling weakly, then shivered. “It’s… rather chilly… today…” Her head bowed down to her chest as she fell silent and still. Julia couldn’t help but strain to hear her next breath, but there was utter silence except for the rain and the cars passing through the wet street outside.

Spike wiped the tears from his eyes one after the other and took a breath, then stood and walked to the back room. Julia took Annie’s jacket from the coat rack by the door and laid her body down on the bench with the jacket as a makeshift shroud. From outside came the sound of three sets of brakes squealing to a halt. She peered through the blinds; people were getting out of the cars and training guns on the corner store. “We’ve got company,” she called out, as Spike came back with a large cardboard box, flimsy with age and mostly held together with duct tape. “What’s that?”

He tilted it towards her a bit and she could see “Armory” written across the top in black marker. “I’m gonna take it upstairs,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” she said, taking Annie’s hand. “But we’re gonna make a bit of a scene.”

 

The glass windows shattered and fell under a hail of bullets from the Red Dragon soldiers. Spike and Julia were still silently arming themselves on the first landing, hidden behind a half wall. From below came the crash of the front door being kicked in, then the crunching of glass under shiny black shoes as the soldiers cautiously secured the first floor. Julia took the last grenade out of the box. There were still a few things in there but two people can only carry so much. She looked at Spike and raised her eyebrows. He nodded, shotgun in hand. The first stair below them creaked slowly.

They both stood and leaned out over the stairs. Spike took aim at the woman on the stairs, who was looking right at them, and fired, catching her right in the chest. She fell back against the wall and slowly slipped to the floor, automatic fire spraying the ceiling from her gun. Julia pulled the pin from the grenade and tossed it down into the front room. They ran for the fire escape; behind them, shouts of alarm and a scuffle of feet, then the explosion.

Outside they didn’t even slow down, leaping over the railing onto the long flat roof of the next building over. As she landed, Julia ducked low and spun around, hair whipping, drawing a handgun and taking down a couple of men who had been climbing the fire escape towards the back door. Spike kept going, sprinting down the roof, exchanging fire with the soldiers left behind with the cars.

A murder of crows took flight from the surrounding buildings, cawing.

Spike launched himself forward, pulling out a grenade and throwing it under the nearest car. As the explosion lifted it off the ground, and smoke billowed into the air, Julia sprinted past him and pulled him onto his feet. One after the other they swung out onto the roof access ladder at the end of the building and slid down to the car.

 

They parked a few blocks from Red Dragon headquarters and watched as the survivors of Annie’s corner shop returned, and as new soldiers left to scour the city looking for the two of them. Now was the time.

The plan was simple. Get to Vicious. He’d be in the inner sanctum, sitting on one of the elder’s thrones and congratulating himself. Even with the lowered security, there was no way to fight every guard. The only hope was to get through before anyone realized what was going on.

Julia and Spike walked up the grand staircase side by side. The columns towered at least fifty feet over their heads as they passed over the insignia on the top landing. The automatic door opened in front of them. Inside, a crowd of soldiers stopped chatting and turned to stare, not sure what to make of the two figures, not even drawing their weapons.

Spike grinned and said, “Yo!” He pulled his hand out of his pocket. In it a grenade, the pin already pulled. He casually dropped it to the floor and kicked it into the nearest cluster of soldiers. He and Julia didn’t even wait for the explosion to bolt for the escalator, firing left and right as they went. They crouched and let themselves get carried upward; Julia stuck a block of C4 to the railing about halfway up. On the first floor, they sprinted along a carpeted balcony to the elevator. The smoke in the entryway cleared. As the elevator doors closed behind them, a few soldiers got a handle on the situation and ran up the escalator. Spike pressed the remote detonator.  _ Boom_.

 

The syndicate must have been in more disarray than they had even thought; the rest of the infiltration went just as smoothly. Soon enough they found themselves on the top floor, running along wood-paneled hallways with gold trim and luxurious blood-red carpets. They took a turn and there it was – the door to the inner sanctum, flanked by huge decorative vases. They burst through. The only person in the room was Vicious, standing on top of the elder’s dais, sword drawn.

“So you’ve come,” Vicious said. He lifted his sword and pointed it at them. “When I kill you tonight, Spike, you’ll stay dead. You too, Julia.” He raised an eyebrow. “Unless you’d like to take me up on my offer? It still stands.”

“I actually did change my mind, Vicious,” Julia said, reaching into a pocket and pulling out her last grenade. “Last time I spared your life.” She pulled the pin and launched the grenade up onto the dais. As it sailed through the air, Vicious seemed to disappear for just a moment – then he was standing right in front of them as the dais lit up in a furious blast of fire behind him.

Spike brought his shotgun to bear – but not fast enough. Vicious ducked under the barrel and sliced upwards. Spike stumbled back and the tip of Vicious’s sword sliced a thin line through his shirt and across his chest. Vicious suddenly spun and struck Julia’s pistol aside just as she pulled the trigger. Her shot went wide. He followed up with thrust. She stepped out of the way, grabbed his arm, and threw him.

He somersaulted through the air and landed a few feet away on his feet, laughing. Spike and Julia trained their guns on him and fired; he leapt aside, pulling a throwing knife from inside his coat and throwing it forcefully into Spike’s right shoulder. Spike grunted in pain and the shotgun fell to the ground. Vicious charged at him, stabbing towards his heart. His sword passed smoothly through Spike’s body and he found himself face to face with Spike’s cockeyed grin.

“Gotcha,” Spike said.

Vicious looked down. Spike had managed to pull out a handgun and deflect the blade by a couple of inches. He wasn’t looking good, but he wasn’t dead either. And the gun was pointed directly at Vicious.

Spike pulled the trigger and kept pulling it. Vicious tried to pull free, but Spike wrapped his right arm around him, yelling from the pain as the knife in his shoulder dug itself deeper with the exertion. Julia pulled out a knife, sprinted over, and stabbed Vicious through the base of the skull. His body went limp and fell to the floor. Spike stumbled backward and started to fall as well. She caught him in her arms.

He smiled up at her; then his eyes wandered off her face to the dozen or so syndicate soldiers arrayed around the room. He had no idea when they’d gotten there. They all stood with guns ready and faces full of uncertainty. He raised his left hand in the shape of a gun towards them, smiled, and said, “Bang.” Then everything blurred to black.

 

Julia let the water from the Bebop’s shower flow over her hair, savoring the warmth and the solitude for just a moment longer.

Whenever she was around Faye and Jet – it was fine, but there was a slight edge of curiosity and resentment. Which made sense. They only knew about her from the stories Spike had told. The blond woman in the red coat who he’d been so in love with that he was constantly searching the cosmos for any trace of her, ready to abandon his friends at any moment for her sake.

Maybe she was imagining it. But she couldn’t help feeling like she needed to prove herself to them. To justify her existence. So she’d helped out where she could. She wasn’t much of a cook, but she could at least chop vegetables for Jet. She wasn’t much of a mechanic, but she could fetch tools and parts for Faye. And Faye had even taught her a thing or two.

The rest of the time she was scanning the news feeds for the latest on the ISSP’s Red Dragon Syndicate takedown. It was good to be taking a break from that, too. But she shouldn’t keep wasting water and power. With a sigh, she turned off the shower head and toweled off. As she stepped out into the hallway in a cloud of steam, she heard Faye yelling from the other room.

“Finally! You’ve been asleep for  _ three days_. Again! What is with you! And there wasn’t even a bounty on this guy? You owe me for this, you fluffy-haired idiot. My ship’s broken and it’s  _ your fault!” _

Julia smiled as she walked back to her cabin.  _ I guess Spike’s feeling better. _

 

There was a knock on Julia’s cabin door just as she finished changing. “Come in,” she called. The door slid open. Spike stood outside, leaning on Faye for support. “Julia,” he said, raising an arm towards her and wincing slightly.

“I tried to tell him he shouldn’t stand yet,” Faye said. “But of course he wouldn’t listen.”

Julia sighed. “Of course he wouldn’t. Come in and have a seat.” She gestured at the bed.

Spike hobbled over to the bed and sat down, with Faye’s help. Julia cupped Faye’s hand in hers and said, “Could you give us a moment?”

Faye flushed and nodded. “I’ll get back to  _ fixing my ship_,” she announced to the room, pointedly looking away from Spike, and left.   


Julia sat down next to Spike. He was staring at his hands, clearly thinking about what he wanted to say. He opened his mouth a couple of times, then shook his head and closed it again. Finally he said, “I can’t believe it’s over. It is over, right?”

She nodded. “The Red Dragon Syndicate crumbled. There wasn’t anyone left with enough influence to hold things together. ISSP has been rounding them all up.”

“I can’t believe it,” he said again. “Julia, I’ve missed you so much. I didn’t get to tell you this before, but... I never stopped looking for you.” He turned as much as he could to face her.

“I know,” she said, pressing her lips together. “Faye and Jet told me.”

“Now that I finally found you, and the syndicate is gone… we don’t have to hide any more. We can be together again.”

Julia took a deep breath. “First of all, I found  _ you_. And secondly – I thought you were dead for a long time. I’m glad you’re not, and I’m glad to have you in my life again, but – I moved on from our relationship a long time ago.” She put her hand gently on his shoulder. “I can’t just be with you like nothing’s happened.”

Spike sat motionless for a moment, then pulled out a cigarette and lit it. He took a long pull. “Yeah, that makes sense. I don’t really know what that would look like for me either.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder. It was so familiar, but so distant at the same time.

“Ed called earlier with a tip on a bounty,” she said. “Faye and I are going to check it out as soon as we can get her ship fixed. If it’s all right with you, we’ll keep operating out of the Bebop.”

“Yeah,” he said. “That’s fine.”

Julia got up off the bed. “I’d better go help her out with the repairs,” she said. “You should lie down and rest. I’ll see you later, space cowboy.”

Spike waved and laid down on her bed, staring at the ceiling and the small trail of smoke winding its way upward.


End file.
